


Wanderer

by castielrisingabove



Category: Supernatural
Genre: slight suicidal ideations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-24 23:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3788953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielrisingabove/pseuds/castielrisingabove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After dinner at the Bunker, Cas mulls over Metatron's questions. Where does he belong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanderer

It wasn't until late at night, when Charlie and the Winchesters went to bed, that Metatron's words returned to Cas' head. The other angel's leering questions about what Castiel's mission was. When Cas was truly honest, he didn't know.

He didn't belong in Heaven. That much had been evident years ago, but more so now. In little time, Hannah had been able to become a fair and productive leader of Heaven, she did in a few months what he'd been spending a few years trying to fix. No, Heaven wasn't home. Especially not after he broke Metatron out. If Hannah didn't want to kill him after learning what had happened because of Castiel's foolishness...well, she'd be a far more kind leader than he'd ever been.

But he didn't belong in the Bunker, either. A year or so ago he would have said differently. Hell, when he'd lost his grace, he actually thought he'd live in the Bunker. Who had he been kidding? At the weakest point in his life, Dean had pushed him away. The same with Sam, who cut ties with Cas as soon as he realized the angel was too weak to properly track down Dean with him. Cas came when he was invited, he came when he was useful. That was it. Whatever sentimentality was tied to the Bunker, the same sort of sentimentality that lead Cas to refer to the angels as brothers and sisters, couldn't seem to be sustained.

So where was home? Cas' fingertips traced an aged map on display in one of the many Bunker hallways, as if he could just close his eyes and point to find the place he'd call home. He had his wings, he could go anywhere he wanted....but nowhere seemed right. Perhaps it was because all he could see of the possible locations were some inked lines and a name, but it didn't change the fact that wherever he'd go, he'd be alone. All these humans, they already had lives....and there didn't seem to be a space for a newly fallen angel.

Did this mean he was left to a life of wandering? There were humans who did it, who wandered the face of the Earth without a home to return to...but these nomads often traveled in clans. Lonely was the man that traveled alone. Lonelier still was the wandering angel, whose immortality doomed him to an endless and empty plane of wandering, for all to fall away and come back within the blink of an eye. Cas thought back to the quote in which his grace had been stored. "What is the maddest thing a man can do? Let himself die..."

But was that really so mad? After all, Castiel wasn't a man. He was an angel. An angel with nowhere to go and no missions to fulfill. Without thinking, the blade slipped into his hand and Cas stared at the sharp, shiny point, contemplating how bad it would be if he forced it into his gut. No more responsibilities...no more wandering...

His eyes flicked up to see Charlie's gear stashed in a corner. The girl, from what he could tell, didn't have anyone either. She, too, was a wanderer. And a survivor. Cas closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as he forced the blade away. He did have a mission; Metatron needed to be stopped. That was his responsibility. After that? Well, if Charlie could wander, maybe so could he. Besides, even if he couldn't? At least he wasn't leaving a home behind. 

"No point staying," Cas murmured softly aloud. He was a wanderer, after all. Pretending he had a home, even just until morning, wouldn't solve anything. With a flap of his wings, he was gone.


End file.
